


Part 4: House Calls

by mantra4ia



Series: Bucky x Reader: Words are the Best Weapons [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers, Winter Soldier - Fandom
Genre: AU, Backstory, Bucky Barnes' Notebooks, F/M, Fanfic, Gen, Humor, Marvel-verse - Freeform, Series, Snark, Work In Progress, imagine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-16 02:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8082901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantra4ia/pseuds/mantra4ia
Summary: Type: Tony x Reader, talking about Bucky (Reader's POV)Chapter snapshot: If Tony Stark wasn't your patient, if you didn't owe him, if you didn't understand his crazy, neurotic behavior, then you might both kill each other. But you have a history with Tony, and understanding, a respect, and an unconventional friendship. You care for him, so much so that sometimes you want to shove him out of his own way. Or else punch him in his perfect teeth.And when it comes to discussing Bucky Barnes, things get infinitely more complicated. Tony doesn't pay you nearly enough.This is my original work of fanfiction. Please do not duplicate or reproduce.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Previously: Lapse in Cruelty  
> Bucky has his first patient notebook and you, in turn, have your first growing pains as a therapist. Sharing a personal story from you life, telling him about your grandfather, has stirred aches from the past that make you uneasy.  
> But Bucky laughed. If your struggle was the price for a moment of peace for him, perhaps it was worth it. Perhaps you couldn't save everyone, but you might save someone.

[Background music to score the chapter (optional)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no9gULRZXt4)

"T'challa, a friendly face in a room of hostiles, you are a sight for sore eyes," and indeed your eyes were sore, a quick three hour respite to shower, rest, and review your notes paled in comparison to the amount of time you had just spent in the air over a vast expanse of restless ocean. The king's accompanying attache, clearly disturbed with such a casual greeting to royalty, went from at ease to attention. You attempted to put them at ease once more with a customary bow.  T'challa would have none of it; there was little time to catch up before the real work began and he intended to make the most of it.  Heartily he gripped your forearm and you embraced in a firm shake, which burned the tiredness from you immediately. In your other arm you outstretched a gift, but thought better and handed it to the strongman on his right instead. "A book that is likely to be more stimulating then the reading we will now attempt to revise. Turn a page or two if you feel yourself growing weary during this conference."

"A generous thought, my friend. It has been too long since last we spoke. But with my apologies, I have nothing in return."

"You mistake my meaning T'challa, my gift is a return on your kindness. That artifact, the wooden screen, how do I say it properly?"

"The Tribulations of a Warrior," T'challa said with pride.

"That came in quite practical use in my office."

"I see, so your patient does well I take it, and you?" he inquired, as you both took your seats before the United Nation's delegates. 

> "Thank you for not inquiring too deeply; as much as I can divulge, Barnes is well. Has there been any progress investigating the source of the terror cell that bombed Bucky's holding facility? Were there any casualties in the process of shielding his evacuation and convert transport? Was he indeed the target of the attack on the stronghold?"
> 
> "There can be no other. Our interrogations indicate the terrorists were contracted to extract a high priority asset, but they were paid in enough ammunition not to question who. Knowledge was limited to where he was and who aided him. There were no casualties but theirs, we received intelligence with enough time to mount an armed defensive and extract the laboratory workers. However the damage sustained to the facility has decimated it's structural integrity. It is no longer viable." Damn.

"And the people in league with the cell, the ones with means and motive to draw up contracts, do _they_ know who they are after? Has Bucky been compromised?"

"As of yet, that answer is unclear, though not for lack of trying. Until we know who's coffers are open, we cannot know what they know. And that begs the previous question, have you been under any suspicion of threat?"

"No, Tony has made good on his offer of protection."

"And how has that been, being the hinge point between the Avengers and Mr. Stark."

"You know how it is, T'Challa. Tony is a landslide. You gave me an artifact of your people, Tony feels the need to surpass it steel plates and bullet proof glass." A brief smile from the King interrupted the monotony of the Sokovian Accords Amendments presentations that were being read on the docket. "And I am the double pane between them through which neither party can view the other; the conduit of blind civility. Honestly, I am in over my head."

"Doubtful, warriors seldom are," T'challa replied, "and in rare moments when they are vulnerable, they are in the fine company of the unit."

"Thank you for being in my unit."

You held the floor for 6 hours of the conference as the guest speaker of King T'challa at the Sokovian Accords Amendments Proposal. Such a string of agendas would unfold over the next several days that there might be hope yet to make that disastrous lawful tome into a functional working document. But you had only a small part to play: you'd done your best work to bolster support for a majority of strikes as opposed to additions in the rhetoric before your time on the floor came to a close and you bid a fond farewell to T'challa, who was tasked with hearing out the remaining days of the conference. You wished him luck and fortitude in equal measure; he in turn wished you to convey a message to Barnes: when it was safe, at the earliest possibility of his preparedness, Bucky should reply to his invitation.

"May I inquire as to what the invitation purposes?" you had heard none of this information from Barnes before now, T'Challa could sense as much.

"That he return to Wakanda with a discreet detail for his protection, and repair that which was stripped from him."

* * *

In a slurry of uncertain thought, after a day of spending more time in the air than you had on the ground, you had no hope of recalling the hour it might be as you landed. Day or night, day or week, it was beyond your grasp. In that deluded frame of mind you were exceedingly surprised; upon arriving on the tarmac at Beck Field Airport near Atlanta, you saw a savant in a three-piece suit with tinted glasses and with a welcome sign that read, “Seeking a wonderful therapist who can tolerate my tardiness." It was literally the dead of night, yet even through bleary eyes you knew only one pompous, well-dressed businessman you wore sunglasses well after sundown. A sign of lifestyle as opposed to practicality.

“As good as it is to see you Tony, did you miss the memo? This is Georgia. Why are you in a suit when it's 89 degrees at 9 o'clock at night...why are you even in Georgia at all?”

“I heard your flight got rerouted here on your way to New York due to the storm system. I thought that after all those hours of flying commercial (you were not in fact flying commercial, but anything less a certain amount of commodity must seem that way to Tony), and given that I was already in the area already I thought I might give you a lift. Simple, innocuous...”

“Transparent. By 'in the area' you mean to say...”

“A few hundred miles.”

“Lovely” They rain was beginning to fall just as you reached the awning to the central intake building with your laptop briefcase. and you knew you were in for a long night ahead if bits of the storm system were this far south. You waited patiently as bags were unloaded from the plane's holding compartment because you preferred to take them immediately rather than wait for them to be ferried to claims. “But I was actually going to rent a car and drive back up to Manhattan, do a little sight seeing, maybe take a rest stop somewhere along the New Jersey turnpike.”

“See the way you describe that is so perfect, really it helps me a good deal to appreciate my work and the kind of private transportation it affords me.”

“An extra dose of gratitude does the body good, Stark, I'm so glad you're coming around...” The drizzle was picking up as an attendant jogged over to you with your secondary briefcase and luggage. As you made for the case with your coded notes on the Accords proceedings, Tony made for the luggage and you were at a stalemate.

“Which is why you should lead by example (Y-N). A little gratitude and good company after a long journey goes a long way against jet lag.”

"I just spent fourteen hours in the air, what's a few more? Though I may need to borrow your reading glasses if you expect my full attention."

"They are not reading glasses." Tony admitted nothing, though on closer inspection your suspicion was confirmed. His self-adjusting sunglasses, useful enough after a long evening out or evading recognition by the media, had clear demarcation on the lower half of the lens to provide magnification.

However it was a point of pride for Tony, he made few concessions to age. "My mistake." There was no point in arguing. It was a genuinely nice gesture from Tony to come to the airport, if not altogether unselfish. He was clearly seeking some off-hours office time without the burden of making an appointment, or more the point avoiding the hassle of giving up the luxuries that gave him a safety-net in the uncomfortable process of therapeutic personal growth. And you were seeking an expedient way home. So without further protest you made a quick v cut toward what only be Tony's private carrier and, before he could express triumph, you asked him “How's Pepper tonight?” Bullet.

“She sends all her love.” The response set the tone to your liking. Tony was now aware that if he wanted two hours of your time in his element, that you could make anywhere into your office. And your office was a tight ship. It was time to get to work.

The first leg of the flight passed remarkably without incident. You talked of the young Peter Parker and how his summer internship at MIT was going. Regrettably to Tony, he still had not swayed Parker's ambitions toward MIT, and although you had not confronted Tony, your notes grew with several coded sections on his developing paternal bond with the boy, similar to his own turbulent relation with the late Mr. Stark. They marched on talking about Rhode's acclimation to PT rehabilitation with the assistance of Tony's neural prosthetic. It's aid had accelerated Rhodes' recovery timetable tremendously. Although he was not on active duty, his time was well spent selecting veteran candidates in conjunction with the VA and fitting them for Stark's second generation prototype models. With guidance and a personnel team to analyze the data and feedback of the veterans, it gave Rhodes even more resolve to master and improve his situation.

The conversation stuttered to a halt on Pepper, at which point you politely excused yourself from the cabin to the lavatory, and with your SAT phone called Ms. Potts. By the time you would touch down in Manhattan it would be 11PM, but Pepper – excited to know what had taken place at the Sokovian Amendments Conference and brainstorm on it's implications at Stark Industries quarterly board report - had agreed to meet with you for a late night round of drinks and intellectual discussion. In your personal life you and Pepper were good friends who hadn't had the chance to catch up in 3 months, so it was painful to deceive her. You made the reservations under her and Tony's name instead, but it was a necessary evil.

On returning to cabin, not wanting to renew conversations about Ms. Potts, Tony b-lined the conversation expertly toward Bucky Barnes, under the pretense of concern. “(y-n), how is the backup generator to the magnetic panel in your office holding up? Do any adjustments need to be made?”

“I hardly know Tony, it's rarely used.”

“Good, good. And has the new partition material proved more successful?”

“The gorilla glass..I'm sorry, the alkali-aluminosilicate enforced with woven tensile vibranium matrix ...is fine Tony. Though I could use a new bookshelf.”

“Why, has Barnes managed to do damage with your old one? Throw it out of a window.”

“Nothing insofar as I can tell, I simply fear it is reaching is weight bearing limit, much like my patience.”

“I didn't mean to imply...”

“I cannot disclose any part of my treatment for him Tony, except to say that we are making progress. Just as I would not disclose any information discussed between us in a confidential environment...”

“Why, what has he been asking?” Tony straightening up in his lounging padded seat just as you eased your back further into a comfortable position and proceeded to talk over him.

You continued on without pause “...Any parental insecurities with your father only buffered by your mother, night terrors, fear of failure, loss, the inability to protect those you love, Rhodey and Pepper included, and subsequent struggle with PTSD-like symptoms, all those things are strictly confidential points to work through between the two of us,” you continued your ballistic assault against Tony's particularly spitfire brand of conversing.

“If you have a point, I'm ready for it. Unless you would like spend the next 40 minutes discussing my unique qualities. I'm sure you have enough material about me to make ample use of that time.” Tony countered.

“My point is that Barnes never asks about you by name, and he does not seek your forgiveness.” You couldn't read which feeling was most predominant in Stark's reaction, surprise, appall, or disappointment. “Because he knows that there is none to be had. But there is never a moment where he does not reflect on every life he has taken. Against my advisement, he has the footage from 1991. He has replayed it. How many times, and to what end I do not know, but it makes me physically ill Tony, and it makes him a kind of ill I cannot describe.”

“Good” was all Tony could manage.

“That's vile, Tony. Neither you nor him, in my professional opinion, are prepared to see or speak to each other for any extended duration...”

“Who says I want to?” Rebuttal, true to form.

“...Though you both desperately _need_ to.” You said without letting Tony talk over you. “As your friend, please indulge me. Let me give you some perspective. Tony, you have from early on in your life been been conditioned to invent. Your energies and talents were specialized to this field from every interaction and every person you met; being inspired by Pepper, trying to please like your father, even to exceed or beat his ingenuity. There was a time in life you may have been anything, but you were buffered and polished into..."

"An icon?"

"...an inventor. There was a time in his life that Barnes might have been anything, but his talents were conditioned to be a soldier, and then to something degenerate...to a weapon. What I believe you hope for, and what I cannot give you, is to unmake a soldier, and that is devastating because on some level, Bucky wants the same thing you want. He wants to be discharged, disassembled and decommissioned. It is a long climb back from a weapon to a soldier, let alone soldier to civilian. I am trying to direct his skill into to something positive, and if you can believe it we are succeeding.

But on some level, although you respect service men and women, Tony, you don't seem to realize that Bucky is one of them, possibly the longest career soldier in history. And as difficult as it is for you to admit you cannot bear to look most soldiers in the eye because part of you is perpetually at odds with their choice to fight, destroy and take life so that they can save lives, and so that those people they save can eventually rebuild. It unsettles your core beliefs.”

Something in the combination of jet lag and what you felt could only be described as Tony's utter disregard for your time left you feeling more deadly serious and brutal than you had in long while. It was making you into something other than a therapist, some insipid thing utterly useless at your job, so you were pleased when you received a phone call from Sam on the SAT phone as an excuse to further separate yourself from Mr. Stark.

"Hello?" It was Sam, when he got confirmation that you were closer to New York on your return home than he'd realized (no, in fact, your flight had not been rerouted, you lied), he asked if you could pay a house call to Sharon Carter on a consultation. A strange request at this hour, but one you gladly accepted, as it gave you an excuse to reroute Stark's pilot, right to Tony's face, and bring him that much closer to your/his rendezvous with Pepper upon arrival.

After ending your call you buried yourself in laptop work, avoiding any misconception that there was a chance to rekindle conversation. Tony was, for once in his life, silent for the remaining 20 minutes, though not without fidgeting, as the turbulence increased and the city came into view. Tentatively, as you began descent to the Avengers tower, Tony spoke with composure at a normal conversational speed. “You're right. Without knowing Rhodey, or Rogers, I would have no personal knowledge about the life a soldier. When I began my career contracting for the military, I didn't have any idea what respect and understanding for their line of work meant. I thought I did, but as Pepper has numerous times pointed out I was wrong. Since then, I've grown to have some perspective, now, I think. I just don't...can't view Barnes as a service man and not a mercenary, I can't bridge the gap between enemy and ally. They're two different people, and the Winter Soldier eclipses the man.”

Tony's phone ringed twice, in response to the closure of your computer. “Lucky for you Mr. Stark, it is my task to bridge that gap and not yours, though some day when I succeed you are welcome to cross that bridge. Your task now is two fold until our next _scheduled_ appointment _at my office_. The first document I have emailed you is a list of _wants_ , _wills_ , and _wont's_ that I have constructed. You are in the first column based on memory of our working notes together, and their is a list for Ms. Potts is in the second column based on our personal friendship. Call them priorities you each desire in your working and personal relationship with one another. If you disclose to Pepper that I have made this list I will terminate you as a client. ”

“What exactly am I suppose to do with this?”

“Use it as a speaking guide for your conversation tonight, and by guide I mean adhere to it as closely as possible. Thanks to your pilot and my foresight, you are 20 minutes early for drinks with Ms. Potts at the ground floor restaurant of the Brown Hotel. I've taken the liberty of ordering you a cab. Take it, as opposed to one of your cars. If Pepper sees you coming she will leave. On your way over, please take note of how full your wants and won'ts are Mr. Stark, and please try to fill the _will_ column to balance things out. _Willingness_ signifies compromise. At the moment you and Pepper do not want the same kind of relationship, and I cannot guarantee you will meet at that place at the same time. But if you can establish some common ground tonight on what you are each _willing_ to concede, you have a future.”

“How far do your assumptions about my desires extend in this document?” Tony sputtered. “Oh, well, quite far it seems, and quite precisely. And when did you go back to calling me Mr. Stark, it makes me feel like my father.”

“Ironically enough, that brings me to the second document I sent to your phone. It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with your father, which is why that file is encrypted. It has taken me a long while to procure any new media of the Howling Commandos that is not already on archived or for public consumption, but thanks to Peter Parker and some expert investigating, I have photographs and transcripts of young Howard Stark and Commander Barnes, shortly after Barnes was rescued from behind enemy lines. Based on all accounts, they were friends Tony. Not the closest it seems, but with a mutual respect and understanding.”

“That makes what happened to him worse, not better!” The cabin door opened, and the stairs of the carrier descended. You secured the briefcases with your computer and Summit notes, making sure each was water tight, before stepping out into the torrential, wind whipped rain. “That's a shame. I was hoping it might serve as the first plank toward bridging the gap of your understanding, perhaps even your compassion.”

Silence.

“And if you would be so kind to send my luggage to my office, there's no way I'm carrying it through all of upper Manhattan.”

* * *

Thirty minutes later, thanks to skilled foot and cab work, you were soaked to the skin and standing, dripping wet in front of Sharon Carter's loft. The real one, not a base for cover. Based on the strange course of recent events you were not surprised when Steve answered the door. “Steve, my specialty is not couple's counselling. I specialize in grief and post-trauma. I'm going to have to refer you.” At the stir of conversation, Sam popped his head into the doorway. He appeared much worse for wear with his arm in a sling.”

“(Y-N), thanks for coming. This actually isn't about Sharon and Steve. Sharon isn't even here, she let this place out to Steve while she's on assignment in Berlin. Rogers and I need a second opinion on Bucky” Sam said.

You still fought the urge to respond again “Steve, my specialty is not couple's counselling” in delirious humor when cognition clicked into place. This was Bucky's temporary safe-house, in actuality a base of operations for all of the Avengers now that they had no legal authority to operate under law, unless the proposals from the Summit to amend the Accords were passed. In which case you definitely should NOT be here, it was a security compromise. But soaked and cold, and thoroughly tired-but-no-longer-sleepy that you were, there was no sense in refusing the shelter. What you knew you couldn't un-know. Steve and Sam cleared the door, so that you could see past them into the common living area where Bucky sat beside Wanda on the couch. Bucky physically and emotionally looked a mess. There was no choice but to concede. 

> “I'm going to need a change of clothes, the airline...lost my luggage” you reply hoarsely. “Everyone else can go to bed, I've got it from here. Oh and Steve,” Steve glanced it you from the doorway “Natasha promised me two glasses of something tall and cold. I'm calling in that favor now.”

**Author's Note:**

> NEXT: Part 5- Midnight  
> Rain washes away a good many things. Dreams, nightmares, and perhaps constraints. This is why you don't make house calls, for the same reason you make no exceptions to professional decorum. Because rain washes away a thin facade.


End file.
